2010 debates: Clowns to the left, jokers to the right
By: James Hohmann and John F. Harris October 31, 2010 09:34 PM EST

In Pennsylvania, there was the showdown between two Senate candidates whose talking points had become so robotic that local reporters made up a drinking game, in which participants were required to chug every time the Democrat mentioned “China” or the Republican said “Pelosi.”

And then there was the frozen moment on a debate stage in Arizona, where incumbent Republican governor Jan Brewer was so tense that she paused for more than ten seconds, staring at the camera, looking at notes, then back at the camera, before finally speaking: “We have…did what was right for Arizona.”

Brewer probably has a measure of sympathy for Democratic Rep. Maurice Hinchey of New York, who was asked at a candidate’s forum to “Please detail your deficit reduction priorities.” With a quizzical expression, Hinchey asked that the question be repeated, then confessed, “I’m not sure I know what you mean by that.”

2010, it turns out, will not go down as the year that Lincoln and Douglas got a run for their money.

But a range of dismayed and disgusted observers say it is on track to make debate history in other ways. The gap between the ideal of debates—thoughtful, probing, spontaneous affairs that illuminate serious differences between candidates and their ideas—and the reality of debates has rarely, if ever, been more glaring.

Candidates clung desperately to talking points, seemingly indifferent when these did not bear even passing relevance to the question at hand. They lost their trains of thought. They fixed their opponents with peevish glares and snarled impatiently at one another. Nature called for one gubernatorial candidate, Republican Carl Paladino in New York, who left the stage to relieve himself during closing statements.

In the 34 years since debates became virtually mandatory at the presidential level, these encounters between candidates at all levels have become a nearly sacred ritual in the county’s democratic religion. Even when candidates would rather duck an opponent or their own skills at logical presentation or quick thinking would suggest that appearing in debate is unwise, civic piety usually requires accepting at least one debate invitation.

But some people are wondering if this reverence for tradition remains deserved, given the staleness and sometimes downright stupidity of many of this year’s debates. There were plenty of cringe-worthy moments, and some occasional comic relief. Yet an angry year produced few moments to make Pericles proud.

“The key for the candidate is simply to get through the debate without saying anything dumb,” said University of Virginia political scientist Larry Sabato. “It’s worse than theater. It’s really bad theater. It’s off, off, off Broadway. And it would close after a night. I don’t remember ever having seen this many debates where the candidate just went into orbit.”

There are a variety of reasons why debates migrated from the earnest, League of Women Voters-organized model that used to be the norm.

More statewide debates were moderated by national reporters who parachuted in from New York or Washington. Cable channels, more influential than during 2006, became more interested in broadcasting the debates with flamboyant candidates or a high likelihood of inflammatory moments.

It’s difficult to imagine, in a previous cycle, CNN sending Wolf Blitzer to moderate a live Senate debate in Delaware, the 45th most populous state, for a race where experts had already written off Republican Christine O’Donnell, trailing by double digits.

The debate over debates got weirder as the stakes got higher. Drawn out fights over optics—seating, lighting, camera cutaways and the like—used to be more of a signature of presidential debates. Elisabeth MacNamara, the president of the League of Women Voters of the United States, said increasingly even state level debates happen only after extensive negotiations designed to protect candidates.

Some simply refuse. Ahead in the polls, Texas Gov. Rick Perry and the Republican opponent of Rep. Alan Grayson (D-Fla.) declined all invitations. After her September fumble, Brewer wouldn't debate anymore. None of the three seem to have suffered.

Added ground rules make the debates that do happen more stage managed and less authentic. In the Florida governor debate broadcast by CNN last week, the chatter afterward centered on a makeup artist showing a text message to Democrat Alex Sink during a commercial break. Republican Rick Scott cried foul when he saw the violation of the agreed-to rules. Sink quickly fired the aide who sent the text.

If the trivialization of debates into process arguments is one trend, another is linked to the increasing nationalization of midterm elections. This has turned many debates less into discussions about who can do the most for an individual state or district, and more into extensions of the arguments that play out each day on cable television.

Tea party candidates, in particular, played down parochial issues and played up their own ideological priorities. Senate candidate Rand Paul, for instance, mostly disregarded a question about what he’d do to fight for Northern Kentucky during a televised debate in that region of the state three weeks ago.

“The earmark process has really been a stain on our history,” he said.

While Paul never mentioned his opponent Jack Conway’s name, he repeatedly railed against Obama by name.

“They’ve taken the debate out of debate,” said Allan Louden, a professor of communication at Wake Forest University. “It seems this time around that all the congressional debates have been nationalized. They’re being told to say the same thing, and it just stretches their credibility when these just are no longer local races. Everybody’s running against the bailouts. The Republicans are doing the tax mantra to everything while saying ‘just spend less.’ There’s no policy discussion largely.”

This was seen in Nevada. Republican Sharron Angle used the word "Obamacare" 13 times to disparage Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid while the incumbent called the tea partier a variation of "extreme" six times.

In Pennsylvania, the Senate candidates didn't let down the reporters who created that drinking game. Rep. Joe Sestak (D) answered the first question -- "How do you bring jobs back to Pennsylvania?" -- with an indictment of George W. Bush's China policy, which he said Republican Pat Toomey supported. Toomey than said Sestak was "to the left" of Pelosi.

CBS News chief Washington correspondent Bob Schieffer, who moderated presidential debates in the last two elections, thinks the decline of spontaneity and the increased focus on talking points sours voters on politicians more broadly and debates specifically.

“Maybe that’s a reason that some of these tea party folks had such good luck in some of these primaries: they were out there saying stuff that kind of caught people’s attention,” Schieffer said. “Now that we’ve come to the general election, everyone is so careful not to make a mistake that the debates have been pretty lame. They haven’t stirred up much excitement and as a result they haven’t gotten that much attention. In very few of these debates have you seen anyone say anything substantive.”

Most people who make the time to watch full debates have probably already made up their minds. Voters want validation. This makes debates into echo chambers. Every candidate wants to score the zinger that will go viral on YouTube or that their campaign can blast to supporters in mass fundraising emails—while avoiding the blunder that will make himself the brunt of a viral joke.

So more debaters focused on making their opponent look bad than making themselves look good this year.

Republican Ryan Frazier came out swinging at vulnerable Rep. Ed Perlmutter (D-Colo.) over the new health care law. When Perlmutter said the bill included tort reform, Frazier demanded to know “what page” that was on. Perlmutter said what section he thought it was in, but Frazier raised his voice as he demanded two more times to know specifically what “page” it was on. Frustrated and trying to get a word in edgewise, Perlmutter gently slapped Frazier on the wrist.

“Don’t hit me man,” Frazier said. “Come on.”

Rep. John Adler (D-N.J.), facing an unexpectedly tough contest against former Philadelphia Eagle Jon Runyan, asked his opponent to name a Supreme Court case he disagreed with from the last decade. O’Donnell had been tripped up by a similar question six days earlier, and Sarah Palin choked when CBS’ Katie Couric asked her in 2008 to name a case she disagreed with other than Roe vs. Wade. When Runyan cited the 153-year-old Dred Scott case, which upheld slavery, Adler castigated him.

In Connecticut, Republican Linda McMahon tripped up Attorney General Richard Blumenthal with the question, “How do you create a job?” She turned his tortured and hard-to-follow answer into a successful campaign commercial.

During their next debate, Blumenthal came prepared to tackle the question but with bland Democratic talking points. He mentioned proposals to close corporate loopholes overseas and supporting programs that encourage people to buy American-made goods.

Debates also felt cruder and a little more personal this year than usual, perhaps reflecting the boiling over of voter frustration and anger with government.

A moderator asked Republican candidates vying to challenge Sen. Kirsten Gillibrand (D-N.Y.) to say something nice about the incumbent during an August debate.

One, Bruce Blakeman, called her “an attractive woman.”

Another, former Congressman Joe DioGuardi, said he admired her ability to score an appointment from Gov. David Patterson when Caroline Kennedy had been in the mix.